Ruminating on Therapy

I have this persistent, permanent underlying bad feeling… I’ve had it my entire life, and no matter what I do, I can’t get it to go away… not for very long anyway. It always returns.

The only way I can describe it is a crave, a need, to fill a void that exists in my core. it’s an empty feeling, a missing piece, a lack of some thing very important. These days it presents as an urge to put something in my mouth. Something nice, that will make me feel good. It’s often been the way, either consuming something intoxicating like alcohol or drugs, to relieve the feeling. Then there was the starving, followed by the binging and purging, in an attempt to gain power and control over it. Then there was the cutting, where I would try to drain it away.

I’m in therapy, and I can’t identify why or what this is. Is it an underdeveloped ego? Low self esteem? Anxiety? There is a huge, gaping hole inside me where something big should be. But I don’t know what! How can I fix what I don’t know?

It feels like I am lost, alone, lonely, left out, unheard, unnoticed, ignored, unimportant, bored, stuck, frustrated, angry, paralysed, muted, afraid, laughable, weak, pathetic, not taken seriously, disrespected, powerless, out of control, upset, irritated, not trusted, judged, put down, taken advantage of, used, abused, offended, tired, hopeless, unsure, uncertain, unstable, disliked, overreactive, sensitive, delicate, fragile… bad. In general. All the negative feelings and emotions you can think of.

I drink daily, to ‘take the edge off’. “Take the edge off what?” My therapist asked… a question that plagues me… what’s wrong with me? And how do I fix it?

I can’t go on using maladaptive coping mechanisms to get short-term relief from this feeling. I can’t continue to attempt to fill the void with alcohol. I need to figure this shit out and address the issue.

I’ve let myself go!

This is a good representation of me three years ago, vs me now…

I’m not very happy about it. I weighed myself today. I’m only 5’3” and I weigh 12 stone 1 lbs. that is not healthy! I can’t blame it on lockdown. It’s me. My attitude. I’ve gotten too relaxed with everything. I’m drinking waaaaayyy too much, and that all adds up in terms of calories. I’m even paying for a gym membership that I never use. It’s the prime example of self gratification by being a ‘member’ of a gym and living on good intentions but never going! Madness!!! And I wonder why I’m skint?! It’s because I’m always down the pub and never down the gym! My portions are huge and I eat whatever I want without even considering how unhealthy it might be. Every day is a treat! – not good!

Time for change! So I’ve started a diet club! Just me and my Mom, lol. But we weighed in today, and will do every Friday morning. I’m logging everything on a spreadsheet as motivation.

I’m just sick of being fat! For a fully recovered ex-anorexic turn bulimic I’ve gone to the other extreme! I need to regulate my relationship with food. At the moment I eat fast like I am starving! But I’m clearly not! I don’t have an eating disorder, but I do need to work on myself.

So! Smaller portions, less beer, more exercise. It’s really simple in theory, but practice is a different story. I need to want it enough to do it! I need the motivation! ADHD is really not helping with staying committed to it. I’ll keep the blog posted with my progress once a month or so. Because this is not primarily a weight loss blog. It’s my entire life.

Dom hates it when I mention my weight or anything on the topic of weight loss. He’s not happy with his weight gain either, but I think it’s because he doesn’t know how to respond without offending me or undermining my issue with it. He just tells me to stop talking about it and do something about it. So that’s what me snd my Mom are doing!

Fuck being fat forever! I’m done!

1. Start a fight 2. Regret it later

This weekend (just gone) was the annual Xmas meet up with me and my cousins. We’re all of a similar age and are quite a close knit bunch of friends more than anything. All of our partners were invited so there was quite a few of us, we planned to meet in town and go Curling at a novelty games arena/bar type place. I stressed out trying to get there on time (as I’m renowned for being late and didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of making their remarks as usual), so me and Dom got a taxi. The taxi dropped us a few streets away due to roadworks, so there was a narrow path for us to go down to get to the venue…

We politely made our way around other pedestrians on the same path saying ‘sorry’, ‘excuse me’, ‘we’re running late’, etc. When eventually near our turning we cross a couple (man and woman) with a pram each, walking as slow as humanly possible. So, we farted around the woman and was trying to over take the man when the woman piped up and said ‘watch out love, there’s someone up your arse!’ Which I thought was a bit OTT, but ignored it, he looked around snd I said sorry as we passed him (and the pram). Then he makes some obscene comment like ‘For fuck’s sake!’.. despite me being polite. I looked back over my shoulder to give him eyes, and Dom told him where to go.

THEN! The woman started shouting her mouth off at us. So I stopped walking away. I turned around and shouted back at her. To my absolute fucking surprise- she completely abandoned he own baby in a pram – started walking towards me to square up. At this point she has no fucking idea what she’s got her self into (and in a completely different way, neither do I). Me being me will not submit or cower away. So I storm right up to her face shouting as I do -harnessing the combine disorders of BPD snd ADHD- and square right back up to her. Tensions were high. Before I knew it I was throwing punches and Dom was dragging me off. Oh yeah, I hadn’t mentioned this was in broad daylight at 3:30 in the afternoon. The bloke left his pram also, in order to drag me and this bitch apart – so both their babies were left in pram son the street unattended… very fucking responsible… I continued to shout abuse such as ‘you should never procreate!’.

Dom was so pissed off at me. He hardly spoke to me for the next 24 hours. Even in front of my family he kept his distance from me. I’ve been stable for literally years. I’m bound to have slip ups. I don’t think he realises how hard I find it to control myself.

Love hurts

Dom and I argued on the weekend. We’d been out Saturday night, had a few drinks and actually a really nice time together, however when we got home he noticed I hadn’t done the washing up before we left. He was furious. It was like the straw that broke the camel’s back. He broke up with me over it. He said the words to end our relationship. 4 whole years, finished. Just like that. Over something as menial as the washing up.

We kind-of got over it and slept in the same bed afterwards, it was (but it wasn’t) all forgotten about the next morning. The argument lingered over us, although we both chose not to acknowledge it. It lasted for days, longer than the hangover from the alcohol consumed that night. Neither of us could focus at work, last night I couldn’t even sleep. I was ruminating on it all. Questioning if he actually loves me at all, or whether he just says the words ‘Love you’ automatically these days. I then questioned if he has ever loved me, or if he was/is just settling for less than he’s capable of getting from a partner. We had a pretty turbulent relationship from the get go, partly due to my BPD reactions to being in a romantic relationship, and partly due to both our mental health conditions to be honest, that and the stress/pressure of his academic studies… but we made it work, with a lot of hard work and patients – we manage.

Last night while I was lay in bed staring into the dark, questioning all things surrounding me and Dom, I found I started to not only question if he loves me – but if I love him… Questions like: am I just automatically saying the words these days? Did I ever love him? Or was I rebounding from the previous relationship I was in? Did I latch on to Dom through the fear of being alone and single in my early thirties? I then started to question how he makes me feel. Do I feel like an equal? Do I feel respected? The answer… really, is no. I feel like he is better than me… and I feel like he knows it. I even feel sometimes (like that night) he shows it.

Then I started to ask myself if I’m the one that deserves better? Someone who would show me more respect and better understanding… after the way he sometimes speaks to me.

Today is Wednesday and this morning I addressed the elephant in the room – the argument we had on Saturday night… The argument in which he broke up with me, over the washing up… He remembered it all, and admitted that he took it too far. He apologised, as did I. Him for making me sad and me for making him mad.

The way he talks to me when he snaps is not okay. It’s cruel, hurtful, disrespectful, spiteful, and demeaning. He’s never done it sober. But alcohol is a catalyst to feelings. I think he is under a lot of pressure with his studies right now and it’s forcing him to lash out, act out of character. Should I be worried? Think less about myself and my reactions to this behaviour and more about him? And the reason this all happened? He is clearly under a lot of stress. I just don’t know how to help or what to do about it.

Please, don’t leave me…

Over the weekend Dom nearly broke up with me… to be honest……… I don’t blame him.

There is so much I’m doing wrong: I don’t pull my weight around chores and house work, I never cook, barely ever wash up – don’t even know how to use the new washing machine, I drink alcohol at every given opportunity (to excess), I act without thinking about the consequences, I’m selfish, I don’t think about other people, I’m inconsiderate, I’m entitled and expect everything to be done for me and I rely entirely on other people to do everything. I am basically a dependant child, I never take responsibility for my actions, or admit to being wrong. I find it near impossible to apologise in a meaningful way, and worst of all I never change! I blame my mental illnesses for the way I act and react or don’t act, but there is more to it. I got lazy. I lost my drive, my will power… my determination. I lost myself. Relationships are a partnership, they take work. I’ve slacked off and jeopardised everything. I nearly lost Dom for fuck’s sake! The love of my life. All because I stopped trying, at life. I stopped putting effort in and became completely self absorbed. He has the patients of a fucking saint to put up with me being this horrible, and for so long! How he’s stayed with me though my shit I really don’t know.

I apologised for real today. I can see it all now. I took a long hard look at myself over the weekend, and I didn’t like what I saw. I feel like I have woken up for the first time in literally years. He’s right, it’s repeated behaviour. Why would he want to continue a life together being my mother, my carer, my fucking slave for God’s sake. It would not be fair.

The weekend was an eye opener. A wake up call. I know this is not who I am. I CAN change, for the better. I know I can. It’s going to take more than therapy, it’s going to have to be driven from within me.

I said “I’m nothing without him” and that’s got to change too. I need to be a someone, I need to have self respect, stand on my own two feet. We can lean on each other for support in times of need, but the poor guy has been carrying me!

Well no more. Today was a new day. A fresh start. I’ve started to make changes already. It helps that I can see clearly now. I think I definitely have an alcohol problem. I would even say… at this point I admit to being a functioning alcoholic. I haven’t touched a drop for two days now. I’m not blaming the alcohol, but it is a catalyst to a downward spiral.

I need to be alert to my behaviour, pay attention to other people, let myself feel instead of numbing out or getting bind drunk. I will change. I’m certain of it. Even if I need to re-read this post everyday for the next five years. I can’t go on mistreating Dom, and the people I love.

I can’t focus!

Maan, I can’t focus at all lately. It seems I did a good job last week to finish my targets at work and whatnot but now I’m completely spent! and my diet has slipped big time! Which is utterly stupid because I’ve just spent £115.00 on a diet/weight loss app… I’ve not told Dom… I’m drinking all the time too, which is a bad sign that there is something I’m not coping with in life. I think it’s falling behind at work if I’m honest with myself. With each day I get further and further behind being ‘on top of things’… it gets me down and feeling guilty as hell, so I deal with that by getting drunk, which makes it hard to wake up, which makes me late, which makes me have to pay for a taxi, which is a waste of money, and I had to get an overdraft this month because I can’t afford to live like this!

I have my mid-probation (3 months in the job) review on Friday. In some areas I’m doing great, and in others I’m atrocious. I have so much e-learning to do. Really you should do that in your first few weeks… I’m three months in… shit. It’s not just that. There’s other stuff. I get so tired, I sleep in and stuff, it’s so unprofessional. My favourite phrase in work when my incompetence starts appearing is “the cracks are starting to show”. To be fair, I’m severely mentally ill, every day is a fucking struggle! How I manage to just about function – I really don’t know.

I need a week out to get my head straight and then a week of just admin to catch up with everything… unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. Wahhh. Woe is me.

Can’t do hangovers…

Not anymore…

So, last Friday morning I weighed myself (first thing), as I do. After a colossal loss of 6 lbs the first week, I had gained 1 lb… despite being ‘good’. You may think ‘not the end of the world’ which is exactly what I kept repeating to myself, but by the evening I was thinking ‘fuck it, I’ll have a night off!’ -so I allowed myself to have a few drinks.

Next day (Saturday) I just slept. The entire day was a write off. Being awake was physically painful. Then Sunday, I slept a lot more. I swear, this was a two day hangover! I hadn’t even drank that much on the Friday night! Moving my eyes felt like rubbing coarse sandpaper on my brain. I had big plans for a productive weekend, plus I wanted to hit the gym. I did literally nothing, for two days straight! What. A. Waste.

I really wasn’t used to feeling so crap. I couldn’t handle it. To think that not long ago (just before I started my new, improved healthy lifestyle) I was drinking daily… no wonder I was always depressed and grumpy. I probably felt like shit and didn’t realise it. I really thought differently about alcohol after that weekend of suffering. I kind of thought I don’t want alcohol in my life… at all, like ever again… possibly a bit drastic. But, that did cross my mind.

I’ve got a few social outings coming up. The next one is this Friday night. I’m meeting up with two old buddies of mine, ex colleagues from a job waaay back. It’s nice that we’re still in touch and catch up now and then. We planed this night out before pubs even re-opened! Booked tables and everything! I’m talking months in advance. Kinda thinking I can’t not drink… I don’t really want to, but it’s sort of expected of me… I’m sure they wouldn’t push drink on me, but they would try and tempt/sway my decision. “Go on, just have a few”… I can imagine them saying. Then ten pints down, I can hardly stand, slurring my words and picking fights with strangers… ugh.

I do have a plan.. I plan to drink beer, slowly, and break it up with pints of diet lemonade. Or I could have shandy I suppose (half beer half lemonade). I’m going to tell my mates I’m doing it for my mental health, and trust me, they know about my mental health, anyway, then they can’t tempt me! I mean, it is for my mental health! And my physical health, lol. I really don’t want to waste another weekend for the sake of a bit of beer.

Bored of ‘being good’…

I hit a bit of a bump in the road yesterday. It was really hard to get up, my body felt really heavy, I was lethargic and moody. I also had cravings for lots of carbs and beer. It was like my stomach was empty (it wasn’t), I had this void inside that needed filling and the only thing I could think to fill it with was food and beer, like an emotional hunger wanting me to break and comfort eat/binge drink. However, I stayed strong (just about) and resisted. It was a real struggle.

The novelty of ‘being good’ is wearing off now and I’m getting bored of being this sober, healthy, rule-abiding saint. My usual unhealthy coping mechanisms are screaming at me to just let go, eat what I want, get pissed and sleep all day… that would be the easy thing to do.

BUT! I’m not going to do that! I’m going to ride it out, fight the urges and battle though. I’m sure it’ll get easier again. Being healthy won’t always come easy. I know that some days I’m not going to want to go to the gym, or even get out of bed! It will take will power and determination.

I weighed myself this morning in the hope that I would see some weight loss results, but I have stayed the same weight. It is what it is, I guess. Just gotta keep plugging away. At least it wasn’t a gain! Goes to show, that heavy feeling yesterday was all in my head.

I’m planning on an evening session in the gym a bit later, after a zoom call with a few of my mates from the Uni days. Then I’ll cycle home and jump in the bath for a nice, long, relaxing soak. As you can probably tell, my mood has bounced back to positive today, feeling way better. What a difference a day makes!